


Been Too Long

by trashpup



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, I'm Sorry, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Overdose, Relapse, Relationship Issues, Sex, Suicide Attempt, TK needs a break, Trust Issues, Whump, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashpup/pseuds/trashpup
Summary: Inside the house T.K. was laying on the hardwood floor, his phone seemingly miles away. He could hear the rings, but they were faint, his head was pounding. Was it the door? Was someone pounding on the door?“No, no, no, no, nobody can know. Nobody should know, but now everyone knows,”T.K. tried to sit up, gritting his teeth in pain as broken glass dug into his palms. He tried to call out to Carlos or to his dad, but he couldn’t force the words out. His throat was dry, considering the amount of alcohol he consumed.“Tyler? Tyler Kennedy Strand, fucking answer me, please!”
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Judd Ryder & TK Strand, Michelle Blake & Carlos Reyes, Owen Strand & TK Strand
Comments: 3
Kudos: 199





	Been Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> so, i uh, i have no control and i apologise for hurting T.K. so much. sowwy 
> 
> but, please keep in mind, this fic is basically one big trigger warning (see tags) so please be careful when reading.

_“Shit, shit, shit, shit, no. It better not be T.K.,”_ Carlos pulled into the neighbourhood that he frequented constantly. The GPS in his patrol car only spoke the the address twice - once when he got in, but he never heard it over the blaring sounds of the sirens. The second time was when he arrived at his destination, which was directly outside of T.K.'s home. T.K. was the only one inside the house, his car was in the driveway, but Owen’s was not. That was enough to set Carlos off. 

“T.K., where are you?” Carlos could be heard screaming over the sirens blaring outside of T.K. and Owen’s home. There was a firetruck, an ambulance - and one on the way, and five police cars outside the home, but no one was making an attempt to enter. Carlos took out his phone and opened up T.K.’s contact information, clicking the ‘call’ button repeatedly. 

Inside the house T.K. was laying on the hardwood floor, his phone seemingly miles away. He could hear the rings, but they were faint, his head was pounding. Was it the door? Was someone pounding on the door? 

_“No, no, no, no, nobody can know. Nobody should know, but now everyone knows,”_ T.K. tried to sit up, gritting his teeth in pain as broken glass dug into his palms. He tried to call out to Carlos or to his dad, but he couldn’t force the words out. His throat was dry, considering the amount of alcohol he consumed. 

“Tyler? Tyler Kennedy Strand, fucking answer me, please!” Carlos had tears in his eyes, his hands were shaking as he pressed the ‘end call’ button for the sixth time. T.K. hadn’t responded to any of his calls and he was progressively getting more and more anxious.   
Michelle walked up next to Carlos, just getting to the scene. She put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, not noticing the way Carlos was shaking. He attempted to stifle the sobs that he desperately needed to let out, but didn’t want Michelle or anyone else to worry about him when T.K. was possibly dead in the house. 

“Dispatch says it’s a possible overdose, do we know a name or story?” Michelle asked. “All we got from Judd was possible OD and we needed to head out immediately, said the person asked specifically for the 126 and a specific officer in the APD. Weird, right?” All Carlos could do was nod, unable to tell Michelle to shut up or answer her questions. He could barely keep his breathing steady at this point and he was ready to break. He wanted to go into that house as a friend, not an officer, but he couldn’t and that was killing him.

“Reyes, we’re going in, we’ve got the okay to use the battering ram and to use any means necessary to save the kid,” Carlos’ sergeant turned to Carlos, seeing the man holding his phone in a vice-like grip, his knuckles white.

“Who’s in there, Carlos?” Michelle asked, stepping in front of Carlos, blocking him from sprinting up to the front door.

“T.K.,” Carlos managed to choke out, tears streaming down his face as Michelle held him in her arms. “He, he promised me. He promised he would tell me,” Carlos could barely hold himself up at this point. Michelle helped him sit against his patrol car before trying to talk to him. 

“Your sergeant is going to break down the door, we’re going to go in there and save him, okay? He’s going to be okay. Are you going to be okay out here?” Michelle’s voice was quiet as she spoke. Carlos shook his head, trying to stand up on shaky legs.

“I’m going in.” 

Michelle gave him a dry chuckle, pushing him back to the patrol car. declaring, “No, you’re staying here and waiting until we come out,” she stood up and looked over towards the front door just in time to see the door get busted open. “We’re going in now, we’ll be out soon.”

-

T.K. had lost consciousness by the time the police had managed to break in. Once they located T.K. laying on the ground, Michelle immediately started doing an exam, calling out vital signs as she examined him.

“His breathing is very shallow, pupils are small, nails and lips are blue, give me the Narcan, now,” Michelle held out a hand. Once she got the Narcan, she moved quickly, spraying the Narcan up T.K.’s nose. She moved back a few inches, watching T.K closely. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Carlos asked from the doorway. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands shook. He looked at T.K. and moved quickly, seeing him start to convulse. “Michelle, Michelle? What’s going on?” 

“He’s having a seizure, shit,” Michelle moved back to T.K., blocking Carlos’ view of the boy on the ground. Carlos couldn’t deal with this anymore, he needed T.K. to be okay. 

-

The rhythmic beeping lulled Carlos to sleep, holding onto T.K.’s hand, waiting for him to wake up. He had taken a couple days off to be with T.K. in the hospital, Owen had done the same, but today he couldn’t, so Carlos promised Owen that he’d stay. T.K. hadn’t woken up after his seizure, they rushed him to the hospital and hooked him up to a bunch of machines that Carlos couldn’t remember the use for. T.K. coughed, opening his eyes and tried to sit up. 

The heart monitor started beeping more rapidly as T.K. started to freak out. Carlos jolted in his sleep, quickly getting up and holding T.K.’s shoulders down against the bed, making sure he didn’t jerk around too much with the IVs in. 

“Hey, settle down, tiger, you’re alright, it’s okay,” Carlos tried soothing T.K., but he only struggled against Carlos’ grip more. Carlos pressed the _call doctor_ button next to T.K.’s bed and kept ahold of T.K.’s arms, trying to calm him down.

“I wanted out, why am I still here?” T.K. cried, stilling against Carlos’ hands. “Why did I get saved?” 

“T.K., they couldn’t have saved you unless you called 9-1-1. So, unless there was someone else with you, you were the one that called,” Carlos loosened his grip against T.K.’s shoulders, moving one hand to cup his face.

-

_“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”_

_“I think I overdosed.”_

_“Sir? Can you speak up? I’m having trouble hearing you.”_

_“It’s T.K. Strand, please send the 126 and Carlos.”_

“Wait, what? Grace, how’d you know he was talking about me?” Carlos stopped the recording and looked up at Grace. 

“Small town, officer, plus there’s only one Carlos that T.K. has ever met in Texas,” she gave Carlos a small smile before heading back out to the waiting room. Carlos was the only one left in T.K.’s room while T.K. met with the inpatient therapist for the first time. T.K. made Carlos promise that he’d wait, so he did. For the entire ninety minutes, Carlos sat in silence, waiting anxiously for T.K. to return. 

-

“You have one week left, T.K., Jesus Christ, can you please just get through this and then we can talk about the next step?” Owen rubbed his temples as T.K. threw, what seemed like, a temper tantrum in the hospital room. 

T.K. had decided that he was done, he didn’t want to do therapy anymore, he didn’t need this. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be with Carlos again. Carlos, who he hadn’t seen in two and a half months. Carlos, who wasn’t allowed to visit T.K. while he completed inpatient therapy. 

“I don’t give a shit, dad. I want to go home. It isn’t helping anymore. I miss you, I miss Carlos, I - I want to go home,” T.K. looked up at Owen, tears welling up in his eyes. He fell back onto his bed, hiding his face behind his trembling hands. 

“You’re almost done, kiddo,” Owen sat down at the foot of T.K.’s bed, resting a hand on his son’s leg. T.K. let out a breath, his face still hidden. “Come on, let’s go see if we can get you food.”

“’M not hungry, I just want to sleep right now,” T.K. mumbled, fumbling around for his blankets to cover himself up with. He rolled onto his side, facing away from his dad.

“Alright kiddo, well, I’ll see you next week, alright? You’re going home next week, I’ll be here to pick you up, alright?” Owen stood up, looking back at T.K. curled up in a ball in his bed. It reminded Owen of when T.K. was younger, he looked so small and it hurt more than it should’ve. Owen wanted to help, but he didn’t know how.

-

“T.K., hey, it’s Carlos,” Carlos was shaking, he could barely hold his phone. “I guess you know that, uh, I just wanted to know if you were free to go out tonight?” Carlos took a breath, then held it, waiting to hear a response on the other end of the line. 

“I can’t tonight, I’m sorry,” T.K. sounded like he was sick. His voice was scratchy and low, Carlos could tell. “I gotta go, Carlos, I, I’m sorry.” He hung up before Carlos could respond. 

Carlos thought something was off, but he didn’t want to cross any lines, so instead of pushing T.K., he sent Owen a quick text, asking if T.K. was okay. Owen never responded. Carlos weighed his options, he could leave it at this, let Owen deal with his son, or he could drive over to the Strand’s house and see if T.K. was there. 

T.K. rarely left the house anymore, unless it was for therapy or work. No matter how much Carlos pushed, no matter how much Owen pushed, no matter how much anyone pushed, T.K. refused to leave the house, stating that there was nothing there for him.   
As Carlos was contemplating his options, his phone startled him out of his own thoughts. The caller ID read “Owen Strand” and Carlos’ heart dropped. He never called unless T.K. was injured or being a brat.

“Hello, Mr. Strand, is everything alright?” Carlos answered the phone with as much professionalism as he could muster before Owen dropped the bomb. 

_“T.K. is missing.”_

Carlos would prefer literally anything else than those three words. Missing people rarely got found, especially if they ran away on their own accord. Carlos could see if he could borrow a canine officer and maybe, if the situation became dire enough, they’d let him use the helicopter. 

“Where are you? Are you at the firehouse?” Carlos was already dressed, so he grabbed his car keys and headed out of his house. Maybe, if Carlos had paid a little more attention to T.K. he would’ve noticed. _“This is my fault, fuck, I’m sorry, T.K. I miss you.”_

Carlos couldn’t stop thinking, his mind was racing of all the things he could’ve possibly done wrong: was he too dismissive of T.K.’s feelings? Was he moving too fast, too slow? Doing too much? Not enough? Was he just not paying enough attention to T.K.? 

Whatever it was, it was far gone from the realm of mattering to anyone. All Carlos knew was that he needed to find T.K. before anyone else did. T.K. could be in danger, he could be unsafe. Carlos took an oath to protect and serve the community; that extended to T.K. 

Now, Carlos was driving fifteen miles over the speed limit to try and get down to the 126. He got about halfway there before remembering that Owen said he was at home, having just got off work. He turned around, muttering nonsense under his breath, trying to calm himself down, trying not to freak himself out too much. 

Carlos got to the Strand residence in record time, he turned off his car and sucked in a breath, remembering the event that took place here three months ago. He let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel as he held back tears. 

_“This could’ve been avoided if I’d just paid attention to him, but I was so caught up in my own stupid life that I neglected his feelings,”_ Carlos thought, lifting his head off the steering wheel, only to drop it back down almost immediately. He repeated the action a few more times before there was a sharp rap against the window of his car. 

Carlos jumped in his seat and whipped his head around to see Owen standing by the door, staring in at him. He moved quickly, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door before standing in front of Owen. 

“We can’t track his phone any farther than what we’ve got now. It says that he’s out near a bar or motel or something of the sorts. It has a general location, but nothing specific,” Owen didn’t wait for Carlos to muster up the courage to ask any questions, he dove right into it. “Not sure if you want to drive alone or if you want to drive together, but we have a general location, we need to move fast.”

“We can ride together, sir,” Carlos’ voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, but Owen heard him and grabbed the keys out of Carlos’ hand and moved him over to the passenger side of the car before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. 

-

“It’s been three weeks, there’s been nothing from T.K. and that’s not like him. He always used to call or text me, even when he was drunk or high off his ass. This isn’t like him,” Owen was sitting with Marjan, Mateo, and Paul at the station after a rough shift. The three younger adults had been worried about Owen since T.K. had disappeared, but Owen showed no signs of it having an effect on his ability to do his work.

In private, Owen let his emotions flow freely, but in front of his team, he had to be strong and hold himself together. He spent his days off searching the state for T.K. but has had zero luck. It was starting to wear him down and it showed, but no one wanted to say anything. 

The rest of the crew on the 126 missed T.K., but Judd was taking it the hardest. He had texted the kid - God knows how many times - with no response. Sometimes the messages would say “delivered” but Judd didn’t believe that T.K. took the time to read all his messages. 

Marjan, Paul, and Mateo had all been abnormally quiet, not wanting to be louder than necessary, knowing that Owen spent most of his free time between calls either on the phone with the police, or resting because he hadn’t been able to sleep due to nightmares featuring his only son.

Carlos had been the one to file the missing persons report with Owen, his hands shaking the entire time, thinking that it was entirely his fault for T.K.’s disappearance. He thought that he could single handedly find T.K., he didn’t need any of the police canines to help. 

Once it had been nearly a month with T.K. gone, Carlos decided to call T.K. He told himself that he was going to “rip T.K. a new one” for pulling a disappearing act and then falling off the face of the planet for an entire month.

So, during his break, Carlos held his phone in his hands, T.K.’s number dialled, but his finger just hovering over the call button. He took a deep breath and counted to ten and pressed the call button.

He counted the rings. _One._

_Two._

_Three._

_“Carlos, I need help,”_ T.K. was sobbing. Carlos could hear the uneven breathing of the younger man, understanding that he was having a panic attack. _“Please. I fucked up so bad._

“Tyler Kennedy, _dios mío, chico._ Are you okay?” Carlos whirled around in his desk chair, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, holding his phone between his head and shoulder. He scribbled out a note, messily telling his sergeant that he was going to get T.K. and that he’d be back soon. 

_“I-I’m alive? I th-think I’ll be okay,”_ T.K. coughed, it sounded horrible and Carlos felt horrible for not being able to find him sooner. _“I’ll text you my location. Please hurry, and don’t tell my dad yet. Please.”_

T.K. quickly hung up the phone and Carlos stared at it until his phone vibrated and lit up with a message. He ran from his desk chair to his sergeants office, seeing him on the phone. He waved through the glass and slid the paper underneath the door before running out to his patrol car. He had his utility belt in the passenger seat, just in case he needed it. 

He didn’t know if he should use the lights or not, but then again, T.K. had been missing for a month with no word, then when Carlos calls, T.K. needs help. He decided that the lights and siren would be a godsend right now and it would be best if he got to T.K. sooner rather than later.   
Carlos had his GPS set up, spitting out directions as he moved through traffic with ease thanks to the lights and siren. He glanced down at his GPS to see that he was no more than six minutes away from T.K. and decided that he should turn the siren and lights off and perhaps slow down. Who knows what T.K. got himself into and how bad it would be?

-

Carlos pulled into a hotel parking lot, T.K. didn’t give him a room number, or even a floor, this was not going to be easy. He stared at the building, sighing to himself. Was it worth bringing a canine in? Would the canine be able to smell T.K.? Did T.K. even still smell like himself? 

The more Carlos thought about it, the more he got angry. He decided to head inside to the lobby and try and get some answers from the receptionist. The receptionist looked nice, so Carlos calmed down a bit and smiled at him.

“Hi, I’m looking for a missing person who may be in this building,” Carlos started. He pulled up a picture of T.K. to show to the man. “This is what he looks like; hair might be dyed.”

“I’ve seen him, he’s with someone though, they’ve been in their room for days, the boy you mention has not come out but the other man has,” the receptionist nodded and typed something into his computer. “I have security footage from when they came in, to make sure that this boy is the same person as your missing person. Also, you should know that others staying in the hotel have sent noise complaints about that room, saying that it sounds violent. Lots of crying, lots of yelling, things like that.”

Carlos felt his throat closing, he needed to get T.K. out and back to safety. The receptionist turned his computer so Carlos could see the security footage. His heart dropped, he recognised T.K. instantly. T.K. had glanced up for a second, but that was enough for Carlos. 

“What room?” Carlos turned his head to speak into his walkie talkie. “Dispatch, I need backup and EMS at 2544 North County Road, immediately.” He turned back to the receptionist, desperately staring at him, waiting for the room number. 

“It’s room sixteen, officer, here’s a room key if you need it,” the receptionist handed Carlos a key to the room. He turned back to his computer, busying himself with miscellaneous nonsense so he didn’t have to watch Carlos walk away and let his curiosity get the better of him.

Carlos thanked him and quickly moved to the hallway, seeing that it held rooms one through twelve. He swore under his breath and moved to his right, seeing a small sign saying ‘thirteen through twenty-three.’ He ran down the hall to room thirteen.  
“Dispatch, do I have backup coming?”

_“This is dispatch, backup should be arriving in a moment.”_

Carlos sighed in relief, mentioning the room number before stationing himself outside room sixteen, his hand poised above his gun. He glanced over his shoulder to see Michelle, Nancy, and Tim coming up, other officers running past and stationing themselves around the door.

“Austin police, open the door!” Carlos yelled, pounding his fist on the door. There was a crash from behind the door, followed by a whimper and swearing. Carlos took that as a sign that the person holding T.K. captive in the hotel room would not be opening the door. He took the room key and unlocked the door, opening it.

“If you have a weapon, drop it,” Carlos allowed the three other officers to file into the small room before him. He followed closely, searching for a sign of the brown haired boy. 

The whimpering continued, and Carlos whipped his head around to a small closet. He opened the door and T.K. tumbled out, bruises covering his arms and neck. There were cuts on his chest and face. Carlos picked him up and carried him out to Michelle to be examined. 

In Carlos’ arms, T.K. was silent, but as soon as Carlos set him down to be examined, he started screaming, begging for Carlos. Carlos bent down next to T.K., holding onto his hand, talking to himself while Michelle and her team took T.K.’s vitals and started an examination. 

“Hey, tiger, you’re okay. They’ve got to check you over and clean your wounds. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Carlos rubbed his thumb over T.K.’s, listening to him try and catch his breath. T.K. couldn’t speak, it was getting harder to breathe, even as he tried to regulate it. He shook his head, his head spinning. 

T.K.’s face was pale, he looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. His grip on Carlos’ hand went slack and he went quiet. Carlos looked at Michelle, needing answers immediately. 

“He’s lost a lot of blood, we need to get him to the hospital and we need to tell Owen. Why isn’t Owen here?” Michelle looked back at Carlos, an eyebrow raised at Carlos, standing back while Nancy and Tim lifted T.K. up onto the stretcher. 

“He didn’t want Owen to know yet. I thought once we knew for sure that T.K. was safe we could call,” Carlos looked down, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. “I’ll call him before I head to the hospital. Which one are you taking him to?” 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Carlos? You probably shouldn’t be driving,” Michelle knelt down by Carlos and put a hand on his shoulder. “One of the officers can take your patrol car back to the station, you can ride with us in the ambulance and I’ll call Owen.”

Carlos only nodded, handing his car keys to a nearby officer who’d overheard the conversation. They all walked out, Carlos’ backup officers had taken the other man out after doing a quick search of the room. They found drugs, firearms, and video footage that made Carlos want to kill the man where he stood. 

-

T.K. still hadn’t woken up by the time they arrived at the hospital, so they took him back, Carlos followed closely behind, telling the doctors and nurses that he needed to stay with the Strand kid for “legal reasons.” No one questioned it, even though Carlos knew this was against hospital policy. 

Carlos and Michelle had called Owen, but they were unable to get ahold of him, so they left a voicemail telling him to come to the hospital when he was able to, and that T.K. had been found.

Carlos talked with the doctors while they did a blood transfusion, they had given T.K. an anesthetic so he wouldn’t fight the doctors or freak out if Carlos happened to not be there. Carlos held onto T.K.’s hand, not letting go until Owen came in, breathless.

“Carlos, how did you find him? Is he okay? What happened?” Owen asked question after question, not giving Carlos a moment to process or answer. 

“It’s a long story, Captain Strand, and I still don’t have all the answers. I’m going to let him rest and when he wakes, I’ll ask questions, but only if he’s feeling better,” Carlos said, giving T.K.’s hand a squeeze. He tried to hold back tears when T.K. didn’t squeeze back, even though he was unconscious. 

-

T.K.’s entire body was slick with sweat from thrashing in his sleep, he let out a whimper, curling his body into a tight ball, trembling. Carlos stirred in his sleep, sitting up in the chair he’d set next to the hospital bed. Once he noticed T.K. curled up and shaking like a leaf, he was suddenly wide awake, calling for the doctor, trying to coax T.K. awake without scaring him. He had no idea what T.K. had gone through, but he did know that T.K. was jumpy and nervous. 

“T.K., sweetheart, can you hear me?” Carlos slipped his hand into the pocket-like opening that T.K. left with his body. T.K.’s hands were clammy, a stark contrast to his own warm hands. Carlos held onto T.K.’s hand, feeling T.K. squeeze tightly to match his heavy breathing. 

“T.K., it’s okay, you’re safe. You’re with me at the hospital, your dad will be here again in a bit, you’re okay. Can you let me know that you can hear me?” Carlos kept his voice quiet, looking over his shoulder to see if T.K.’s doctor was on his way. He didn’t see the doctor anywhere in sight, so he pressed the _call doctor_ button again, feeling T.K.’s breathing slow down, his grip loosening on Carlos’ hand. 

“Carlos?” T.K. managed to croak out before promptly bursting into tears. He twisted his body to try and wrap his arms around Carlos’ waist. The IV in his left arm prevented him from moving it very far, causing T.K. to wince as he pulled it. He moved back and allowed Carlos to come to him. 

Carlos sat on the bed next to T.K., watching his doctor and a nurse come fast-walking into the room, immediately checking T.K.’s vital signs. T.K. was still shaking, but his breathing had slowed. 

“Is everything okay? You called for the doctor twice, sorry we couldn’t be here sooner, there was an emergency. Are you okay, Tyler? Are you in pain, bleeding anywhere?” the doctor was checking T.K. over as she spoke. The nurse was making notes on the computer, typing in T.K.’s vitals and any notes that the doctor called back. 

“Uh, I’m okay, I just had a bad dream, sorry. And, I mean, I’m in pain because I’m covered in bruises and cuts, but other than that, I’m fine. Sorry for the scare,” T.K. avoided eye contact with Carlos, as well as the doctor and nurse. He opted to tangle his fingers in the thin hospital blanket, staring at his lap.

Carlos moved his arm to rub T.K.’s back, trying to soothe him. He felt T.K. lean into his body. He slowly weaved his hand into T.K.’s own, squeezing once and kissing the top of T.K.’s head. T.K. looked up at Carlos and managed a small, half-smile, ignoring the doctor telling him they’d be back in a few hours to take out the IV and check and see how he’s doing. 

“T.K., your dad will be here soon, I told him I’d ask you about what happened, but no promises. You can wait until I’m back on the clock and can formally take a statement so you don’t have to run through it more than you need to. Just let me know what you want and I can make it happen,” Carlos gently put a hand on T.K.’s chin, tilting it just slightly so T.K. was looking at him. T.K. only nodded, obviously not wanting to talk about the events of the past month. 

All T.K. really wanted to do was lay down and forget the last month of his life, but every time he closed his eyes, it was all he could see.

-

_“Quit moving, bitch,” the man smacked T.K. twice, making him whimper. “Open your mouth.” T.K. refused, closing his mouth and holding it closed. The man had a knife and held it to T.K.’s face, slowly pressing down on his cheek, cutting deeply. T.K. continued to clench his jaw and refuse the man entrance. “Fucking brat.”_

_The knife was sliced across his face and then across his chest for good measure. T.K. wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of obeying orders. The man had grabbed T.K. by the hair and dragged him so he was slumped over the bed, blood staining the sheets underneath him._

_“Say hello to our lovely followers, they can’t wait to see your punishment,” the man lifted T.K.’s head up by his hair, forcing him to look at the camera. Or, at least in the general direction of the camera. He couldn’t see very well due to the matching, swollen, black eyes._

_T.K. desperately hoped someone would recognise him and call Carlos or his dad. He didn’t know how much more of this treatment he could take. At first, the man was nice about it, and said that it was just for the viewers. Now, he didn’t care if the camera was on or not. He didn’t care how much pain T.K. was in._

_There was finally a day where the man decided T.K. could have his phone back, but only if he was there to monitor his activity. He did a good job of taking T.K.’s phone when he went to the bathroom or showered, or even sleeping._

_The day Carlos called had been different._

-

“T.K.? Are you okay?” Carlos asked, watching T.K.’s eyes flutter open and closed. T.K. was slumped against Carlos, his mouth slightly parted, his breathing finally evening out. He was slipping into unconsciousness again, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay awake. He quickly realised that Carlos wasn't going to force him to stay awake, so he allowed himself to let sleep take over. 

Carlos decided to let T.K. rest, texting Owen that T.K. had been awake and hadn’t wanted to talk yet. He set his phone down on the chair he had occupied earlier, then slid down on the bed, holding T.K. as he slept, finally looking peaceful for the first time since Carlos found him. 

Things were going to be okay, Carlos had T.K. back and he would do anything and everything possible for the younger man. He wanted to make sure T.K. knew how much he meant to him and after such a long time apart, they had a lot to catch up on. A nap together was a good start.


End file.
